The One Time Sue Sylvester Failed
by particularly good finder
Summary: At Something That Mattered.  Something was wrong with Sue. Why did she feel like this? Why wasn't she making fatties cry? Surely this couldn't be sadness that she was feeling. Sue Sylvester did not feel sadness.


**The One Time Sue Sylvester Failed (at something that mattered.)**

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It was a Wednesday, and something was off for Sue Sylvester. Every morning at 5:30 her alarm found the woman alert and ready to crush some souls. By 5:45 she would be dressed in her trademark tracksuit and blending an energy smoothie for breakfast (despite the rumors that she possibly started herself, Sue did _not_ eat the hearts of puppy dogs every morning; those were saved for _special_ occasions). After downing the smoothie, the terrifying woman would normally spend ten minutes warming up her voice as to not strain it whilst screaming at anyone who looked troublesome (or stupid, or ugly, or annoying). Once those tasks were completed, Sue would polish her trophies and grab her favorite megaphone, and head out the door to start a day of terrorizing the students and faculty of McKinley High.

But this morning – this gray, Wednesday morning – something was _wrong_, and Sue just couldn't put her finger on it. Instead of feeling invigorated and determined, Sue felt lethargic, and it took an extra try to pull herself from bed. She took a whole twenty-two minutes to get dressed, and opted for a piece of toast for breakfast, leaving the blender untouched. And instead of running through lip-trills and yawning exercises to loosen her powerful vocal cords, Sue remained silent, staring at the picture of the Cheerios at the 2010 Nationals competition. She was in the middle, holding onto the large 1st place trophy; on her left, Brittany, the slow one with a killer back flip; on her right, Gay Kid, whose 14-minute medley of Celine Dion songs really won over the judges.

A jab in her chest forced Sue to look away from the picture, and she vaguely wondered if her body was rejecting the toast after so many years of only eating protein shakes and vitamin capsules. But it didn't seem so much a physical pain as an…emotional one. But that was impossible; Sue Sylvester only had four emotions: anger, loathing, more anger, and pride.

Trudging from her house out into the misty driveway, Sue drove to the school feeling apathetic and lackluster. She passed by three different fat kids without shoving them out of her way and didn't comment on William Schuester's hair as he added more grease to it, using a display case as a mirror. She even gave Becky the day off, telling her to go get cheeseburgers with her big brother after school instead of running errands and punishing smart-mouth Cheerios like usual.

Quinn Fabray was the first to question the coach's strange behavior. After witnessing the older woman actually help a student pick up her scattered belonging, the Head Cheerleader pulled her coach aside, eyebrow raised.

"Are you feeling okay, Coach? Are you sick?" She paused a moment. "Do you even _get_ sick?"

Sue shook her head, scowling. "Not since 1976. I don't know, Q. Do you think the Russians were able to spike my tap water?"

Quinn shook her head. "I doubt the Lord Almighty could spike your water, Coach. With the security you have on the house…" She trailed off as the warning bell rang. "Look, ma'am, I have to go to class. Maybe you should take an extra B-12 shot today."

Coach nodded, pushing the girl towards her classroom. "Good thinking, Q. Now go use that brain to outsmart those imbeciles you call teachers."

As the blonde girl hurried off, Sue sighed; even insulting the embarrassing academics at WMHS didn't give her the rush it usually did. Damn Russians.

The next people to notice was, oddly enough, two of the biggest idiots on the football team, Finn Hudson and Noah Puckerman. Sue was just walking through the hallway, taking a swig of her coffee, when the two idiots ran into her, spilling the scalding liquid all down her front. Hudson started apologizing immediately, and Puckerman looked appropriately terrified. But Sue did not yell, or hit, or threaten expulsion; instead, she mumbled a low, "Watch it, morons."

The jocks blinked, exchanging confused looks. Puckerman spoke first. "You…you feeling alright, Coach?"

Sue glared half-heartedly at the boy. "No, you piece of trash. Go get me something to wipe off my jacket with." Puckerman nodded, running towards the boys' room. Hudson shifted awkwardly, looking incredibly uncomfortable.

"Um…is something wrong, Coach? B-besides the coffee, I mean." He swallowed hard, face pale. "You haven't caused me to pee my pants yet, so something _must_ be wrong."

Sue blinked. "No, Frankenteen, nothing is wrong. What's it to you?"

Hudson shifted again, shrugging. "I don't know. You're really mean to the football team, and Coach Bieste, and you're always trying to destroy the glee club. But…I don't know. Kurt really respects you. Said you were the only teacher at this school who was on his side. And…I guess I owe you for that."

Another pang in her chest; Sue wondered if she needed to see some sort of specialist. Maybe it was the damn Russians and their biological warfare.

Anything but emotion.

Puckerman ran up to them, clutching a wad of paper towels in his hand. "Here, Coach. Um…sorry about your jacket."

"Quite alright, Fuzz-Head. Jolly Green Giant, get your head out of Jupiter's orbit and make sure your delinquent friend gets to class." Hudson nodded, turning with Puckerman. "Oh, and Incredible Hulk?" He turned again, looking scared. Sue smirked. "Tell that stepbrother of yours not to forget his daily workouts. Kid has a metabolism like an obese, middle-aged woman with a severe alcohol problem." Hudson grinned and nodded, running off as the bell rang.

The last person to notice was, oddly enough, Brittany. Sue found her in the bathroom, trapped in one of the stalls because she "locked herself in."

(Damn, that girl was lucky she was the best dancer on the team, or Sue would have kicked her off years ago from inability to tolerate her idiocy.)

"Thanks, Coach. That always happens to me." The spacey girl said as she washed her hands. "Usually Santana or Kurt comes and finds me between classes. But now…Santana can't always find me…and Kurt's gone."

A strong pain struck Sue's chest this time. Damn Russians, damn _fucking_ Russians…

"Get out of here, B, you'll be late for class," She said, voice wavering. Brittany nodded, but cocked her head in confusion.

"Are you sad, Coach? 'Cause you look sad, but you told me that you don't get sad 'cause you had your tears removed. Did the surgery not work?"

Sue shook her head. "Nothing's wrong, B. But something _will_ be wrong if you miss practice because you're in detention for tardiness. Now get out of here."

Brittany nodded dutifully, running from the bathroom. Sue leaned on the sink, sighing. What was _wrong_ with her?

Raucous laughter reaches her from the hallway, and Sue walks out from the bathroom to see Dave Karofsky and his merry band of gorillas walking to class, shoving kids into lockers and throwing slushies out at random. Teachers just looked away, ducking back into their classrooms, and the newly reinstated Principal Figgens just closed his blinds.

Karofsky turned and, for a moment, his eyes met Sue's, and a smirk crossed his face. The sharp pain jolted through Sue's chest again, and she half-heartedly tried to convince herself it wasn't emotional. The chubby boy rounded the corner, and a cold shiver ran down her back. It was _him _who pushed Porcelain to the edge. It was _him_ who tortured her beloved Ladyface on a daily basis. It was _him_ who threatened to kill her favorite student. But it was _her_ who couldn't stop it. It was _her_ who noticed too late. It was _her_ who should have fought back against the school board.

This, Sue realized, was what it really meant to have _failed_.

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**I know it's been a while since I've updated, and I KNOW I need to update The Covenant, but I've been so busy and this was floating around my head...so...yeah...Review please!**


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